CHAPTER EIGHTEEN : SILENT CD

When my husband retired, we thought it was high time to get back to our roots, our childhood and adolescence memories, and to settle down in Audierne.
Before starting house-hunting, to make our search easier we listed down all the criteria required to meet our great expectations. We set our priorities, then we chose top three must-haves, and while being at it, bottom three ones,too ( our very last wish being an orchard).
Convinced we had everything under control, we embarked on a grand tour of the houses for sale in Audierne.We were quite sure we would be done in no time. How gullible we were !
One year later we were back to square one. We had been shown round dozens of places but none measured up to our desires, either in features or prices. I guess we were the local estate agents' worst nightmare !
Before giving up, we had a last disillusioned look at the websites. We came across a house we had not visited yet, and after a few " one never knows and why nots ", we made an appointment with the notary in charge of the sale.When we arrived there, it was love at first sight ( with the house, not the notary,of course).We were aware of the dangers of falling in love with a house you are buying, number one being love is blind ! Yet, we swept away all those warnings. We were walking on air ! After a gruelling quest for the Holygrail, we had found it ! It fitted all our requirements from the top must-haves to the bottom ones ! Yes, there was an orchard with a majestic cherry-tree !
Three months later the house was ours.
Since then we have had no regret. The house is comfy and the orchard delights our taste-buds, and the maggots' ones, as well ( organic apples are tastier !).

Just a slight drawback : the cherry-tree is as majestic as ever, but it is also a giant bird feeder.Birds pick the cherries off, even before they are ripe. Since we arrived here, the only cherries we have eaten came from the greengrocer.
You know how much we love birds. We have even considered becoming members of LPO. Yet, this Spring, when admiring cherry blossoms, I started feeling a bit resentful. Last Winter we had welcomed tits,blackbirds,wood pigeons,robins and starlings, fed them and even saved some ( remember Hypolais) and then ...overnight those sweethearts had turned into a squadron of rmerciless raiders ready to go on a cherry binge.This time I wanted the biggest share of the loot, I would not content myself with stones !!

I had four solutions :

. attach a bird netting to the tree : considering the width and height of the 
  object of desire, forget about it !
. use a fake owl or cat in or near the tree  meant to move it regularly because
  birds aren't that silly, so too binding.
. hang windchimes ( birds don't like loud, ringing sounds) : I had been 
  offered one by my daughter but too nice for the little rascals !
. hang CDs : they reflect the light, shine in the sun and birds think there's
  a predator coming towards them. 

I remembered I had a cardboard full of old CDs ready to donate to the charity shop. Why not pick up some to scare away my spongers ? 
By fluke I came across 3 CDs of the same songs by the same singer. Great !!
I tied a string around them, hung them on some branches and I thought I had parried the attack. I went back home, rubbing my hands.

The day after, I rushed to my cherry-tree. No more fruit !! Gone away with 
the wind ?? Of course, not !

I could hear the chorus of the birdies singing a joyful song of Thanksgiving !

What I didn't know is that CDs only work when there is direct light, so when it it is night time ... have a guess !


              

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN  : Mrs CHATTERBOX ON LINE !

I guess you have already noticed how much I enjoy writing? What you may not know is that I also love speaking. To say I am talkative is an 
understatement. It seems that runs in the family : men are doomed to listen to women around the clock !
Who's responsible for that scourge ? Could be my grand-mother ( may she rest in peace !). Let me explain it to you.

When my mum was a toddler, she was bright, affectionate, easy-going but she was slow to speak. Of course, she could say a few words but compared to her peers, she was way behind. It must have been somehow hard on my grand-mother's self esteem. I can't put the blame on her, even Einstein's parents thought he was retarded because he was 4 or 5 before he spoke !
Anyway, her daughter's stammerings upset her so much that one day she decided to take the bull by the horns.She was not a believer, but just that once she took my mum to a nearby church ( on the sly because she didn't want to be laughed at) where there was a " wish wheel ". That Carillon Wheel had 12 bells ( of different notes) which were rung formerly on special occasions but were also activated by believers or non-believers to make a wish come true. You guess my grand-mother's wish, don't you ? 
That's how it all began and that's why I am a chatterbox !!

Fortunately I have often read that instead of hiding our flaws, we should learn how to use them to our advantage. That's what I put into practice not long ago..Read on to find out how.

After hanging up on an umpteenth cold caller, I was just thoroughly browned off.Although being on a ' stop cold calls list ',over the past months I had been hassled by cold callers at any time of the day, offering their services for solar panels, life insurance and even funeral insurance ( gosh ! already ?).
As usual I had asked Mr Google for help, but among the tactics suggested, none suited me :

. Hanging up didn't work anymore. I was called back later on.
. Keeping a whistle by the phone and then blowing it loudly as close to the 
  earpiece as possible when the person asked me a question was unfair and
  unhealthy !
. Pretending I was hard of hearing to make them repeat themselves was
  exhausting for me, as well.
. Making pig noises : after a few rehearsals it turned out I didn't sound 
  credible.

What could I do ?? I was brassed off ! Then it crossed my mind that I could
use my chattering power to tire out the next cold caller.It worked perfectly !

When I lifted the receiver and heard a voice mispronounce my name, I knew time had come to practise my oratory ..

I introduced myself and explained the different ways to pronounce my surname, its origin and its meaning. On the other end of the line the boy tried to interrupt me, in vain. 
When he could get a word in edgeways and asked me if I had double glazing, I started telling him the story of the wonder squeegee ( see chapter 14).
No comma, no full stop, no pause, just a flow of words ( well, after that I thought I could be a barker).

Suddenly the line went dead. Yippee !! I had won the fight by a K.O.

That just proves that being very talkative can be a serious advantage !

Now I have to prove it to my half and that will be another kettle of fish !!

The Adventures of Dany the Perky Busy Bee in the Far-West: SOS POST ! ANOTHER VICTIM OF THE WONDER SQUEEGEE ...

The Adventures of Dany the Perky Busy Bee in the Far-West: SOS POST !

ANOTHER VICTIM OF THE WONDER SQUEEGEE ...: SOS POST ! ANOTHER VICTIM OF THE WONDER SQUEEGEE ( see chapter fourteen) Today at lunch-time another poor birdie banged its head againts...

SOS POST !

ANOTHER VICTIM OF THE WONDER SQUEEGEE ( see chapter fourteen)

Today at lunch-time another poor birdie banged its head againts one of our French windows ! It is still alive and just needs a pamper break to compose
itself. I would like to know what you call that bird :

Flycatcher or Tree Pipit ?

Thanks in advance 

   

CHAPTER SIXTEEN : THE PLUMP MERMAID

Since the beginning of Spring, every afternoon, weather permitting, I

have been out in the garden, clearing the undergrowth,weeding, digging,

and so on.Needless to say that all those activities mean being sore all over the days after ! But never mind ! No pain, no gain, and after all Rome

wasn't built in a day. The tiniest nook cleared of brambles and nettles

makes me a happy camper. And remember ! I am a perky busy bee.

It's all the easier to cultivate my image as I have read somewhere that

just exercising your green thumb can whittle your waist ! Weeding helps

you tone your legs, arms, shoulders and back. The more resistant your weeds,

the better your workout is. Great ! Given such useful information, it is easy

to jump to the conclusion that " hard work deserves fair reward ". That saying suited me perfectly and I strived to follow it literally. Breton teatime was just what I needed to restore my flagging energy level.

As you know, Brittany is home to lots of tasty treats : Kouign Aman, a rich

sugary butter cake, or, Far Breton, a flan style eggs-and-milk custard with 

flour added and prunes or raisins, not to mention some delicious salted

butter spread on a crêpe ! Breton teatime really delighted my taste-buds !

But, there is always a 'but'..

Exercising has never meant bingeing on desserts, and I experienced it

last week in the bathroom...

After giving a wary look at the scales, I mustered up my energy and hopped

onto them ! The number that flashed up in front of me floored me !!!

If I didn't pull myself together, I would be stripped of my title of

" Perky Busy Bee ". Even worse : I would be given the consolation prize :

the '' Greedy Lazy Bee " medal !

No time to spare ! I rushed out of the bathroom, slipped into my 

tracksuit ( Geez ! A bit too tight !), grabbed my sports bag and off to

the swimming pool.

Halfway from the ' redeeming ' pool I bumped into a friend of mine. When

I told him I was going to take some swimming laps, he said there was 

no more water, but I didn't pay attention because he is a prankster !

I quickened my pace, instead. The car-park in front of the swimming-pool

was nearly empty. Good ! I don't like when the pool is crowded, especially

with children frolicking, yelling, splashing, jumping, etc. Don't get me

wrong : I am not a grumpy girl , I am just a peace-seeker !

I took out my membership card ( its cost will never be recouped but that is another story ) and as I was about to push the entrance door, I noticed a

sign on the side. It said :

Pool area closed for maintenance 

Gosh ! For once I should have taken my friend in earnest !

I went back home and guess what....

On my way I stopped at the baker's and went on a Danish Pastry binge

to forget my dry swimming costume and my membership card expiring

quite soon !

CHAPTER FIFTEEN : WHAT A FAIR FISH !


As you already know, we have two dogs : Canaille, a 7-year-old Springer
and Ulysse, a 12-year-old Coton de Tuléar. Those two guys are real
sweethearts, but unfortunately there seems to be no common ground
between them.They fought so fiercely to demonstrate it that we had to
rush to the vet for bandages,stitches and injections more often than not !
When we were sick of making our vet rich, we decided to separate the
two tireless fighters. The cease-fire has been on since then, but for extra
safety our two warmongers live apart !
So, you see, when I say no common ground, I really use my words thoughtfully. Those two furry babies are totally different, even when it
comes to food. Canaille is always a little peckish and is easily satisfied whereas Ulysse often turns up his nose at his bowl. Except when the special

is fish. He is crazy about it ! Fresh or tinned is his treat !! Even though 

Audierne is a fishing port, seafood products are nearly as expensive as in big cities. And when school holidays come,fishmongers send the word round and prices soar.

So, I am always on the look-out for special offers on tinned fish in the nearby

supermarkets.Early May I noticed a " buy two and get a third one for free "

bargain on tinned mackerel. A chop-licking meal for Ulysse ! The price per

tin was unbeatable,so I decided to clear out the stock,which meant ...

81 tins ! Don' fall head over heels, we have huge pantries in the basement !

Ulysse could sleep soundly : he was guaranteed board and lodging till

the end of July.

When I came back home with my load, I thought it would be better to store

the tins according to their expiry dates.

Reading the small print on the lids put me in a cold sweat :

June 27/2015, June 27/2015, June 27/2015 ...the same evil date down to the

81st tin ! 

I was down in the dumps. Every time I closed my eyes, I could not see

the stars, but shoals of shiny-scaled mackerels frowning at me resentfully.

What could I do ?

Double helpings for Ulysse would turn him into a four-legged sausage !!

After mulling things over, I came to the conclusion that we would have to share the task with Ulysse !

Out of ideas, once more I called Mr Google for help and once more he took a

weight off my shoulders :

. Firstly, there are a lot of recipes with tinned mackerels ( some even made

  my mouth water).

. Secondly, you can consume canned goods past the date up to four more 

  years as long as they are kept in a cool, dry spot.

. Last but not least, research shows that dogs can look at a human face

  and tell a smile from a frown, but up to now none can read (let alone

  small print on tinned food !).

Phew !! I can manage my fish canning factory light-heartedly and delight

Ulysse's taste buds !!

CHAPTER FOURTEEN


When I was a little girl, I used to spend Easter holidays ( renamed Spring
holidays now) at my grand-parents', here in Audierne. Most of the time
Winter in Paris had been cold, dull and grey, so when I arrived here, I was dying to enjoy outdoor games.Yet, my grand-mother would never let me
go out without checking I had wrapped up warm and saying :
" Till April's dead, change not a thread ".
Are weather proverbs fact or fiction ? I really don't know, but when
April comes, the sound of my grand-mother's warning still echoes in 
my mind and I pay attention not to shelf my winter clothes too early.
Anyway,I think April 2015 was the exception that proves the rule.
The weather was simply gorgeous. The temperatures skyrocketed
overnight and some days a scorching sun stuck me on my deckchair,
unable to lift a finger ! Believe me, I don't over-egg the pudding !
April 2015 was just summerlike.
Unfortunately all good things come to an end !
Rain has broken into and even called on wind for help !

So, I am back inside and I have to face the facts : my one month
gardening has left the house neglected. The brooms, mops, rags, feather dusters, and other instruments of torture I had abandonned to their
fate, are eager to get back into action.
Well, even if household chores are not really my cup of tea, when
things have to be done, I don't balk. Except when it comes to cleaning
the windows. It's my pet peeve !! It's tiresome and the windows streakings 
after washing leave me rather dissatisfied.
Considering the number of wonder products I have tested, I guess
I can be awarded the ' best sucker' medal.
Anyway, a few days ago, after watching an umpteenth " how to clean
windows like a pro " video, I decided to invest in a good quality squeegee
and follow the method step by step.
The results surprised me : my windows were as sparkling as ever !
Of course, the day after my elbow and my shoulder hurt, but no gain, no
pain.
The windows were so clean that it was as if there were none.
And that's the snag ...
A poor birdie did not see one of our picture windows and banged its head against it. Knocked-Out  !! We even thought it was dead, but from
time to time it nodded its head gently, so we sprayed some water
on its beak, gave some itty-bitty- crumbs, then we put it on one
pillar of the terrace ( we thought it would be the perfect tarmac).
It stayed there for one solid half-an-hour. in the meantime we had
fetched our " all about birds " book and identified it :
Hypolais Polyglotte . Polyglot !! I searched on the web how to say
tweet tweet in different languages ( German birds say 'peep peep',
whereas Spanish ones say ' pio pio ').
When our survivor flapped its wings and flew away, I thought I 
should never have cleaned my window so thoroughly. If they had not 
been squeaky clean, Hypolais would have changed its flight and would 
not have been scared stiff !